


It's Only Forever

by Tili_Tili_Bom



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 11:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tili_Tili_Bom/pseuds/Tili_Tili_Bom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh Sarah. What have you done." She looked up at him, green eyes full of love, and sadness, and innocence, and he forgave her, and prayed silently that neither of them would ever have cause to regret their reckless vows.- A fairy tale of magic words and star-crossed love, of wicked kings and wild things. J/S, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once Upon a Time

_England, 986 AD_

"Let me go!" the dark haired girl twisted and broke out of his grip, stumbling away through the dark woods in her worn leather shoes.

He felt as if a torn part of his heart was leaving with her. In an instant he was before her again, catching her in his arms and holding her to him tightly, ignoring her struggling and objections.

"Never. I will never let you go." his voice was firm and booked no room for argument. The moon and stars shone down on them through the branches over their heads, casting a bluish light on the rocks and bushes, and shining off the tears held in the young woman's eyes as she looked up at him.

"My step-mother will never allow it. They will never let me go." her voice held all the despair of her young broken heart, and as she spoke she gave in to his embrace, slumping in his arms and sobbing into his chest.

He bent and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head as he waited for the flood to abate, holding her to him as if his life depended on her presence.

"Do you love me?" he asked softly, loosening his hold and tilting her chin up with a long, pale finger, keeping his other hand firmly on her waist.

Her green eyes shone as they met his. "You know I do."

"And you will have me, as I am?" he continued, stepping back and holding out his arms, turning in a small circle as if to allow her to inspect him.

She giggled a bit in spite of herself at the show, which she knew was meant to cheer her up.

"Of course, Jareth, but-"

He place a slender finger to her lips. "No buts. Why is it that you think that my love is any lesser than yours?"

"-But I have no dowry, no inheritance, my father has a male heir now and has no love for me! I am nothing now but a servant to his new wife, you deserve better!" she sighed and looked at him miserably.

He rolled his eyes and took a hold of her shoulders firmly, meeting her eyes and speaking so that there was a steely weight to his words. "If your father continues to refuse me your hand, then I will challenge him for it."

Her eyes widened in horror and she took hold of his shirt with both hands, tears flowing freely once more. "No, please don't, promise me! Promise me you won't fight him."

Truthfully, she knew very little about her mysterious suitor, but she knew that he was powerful, strong, that he had magic. Her father wouldn't stand a chance. As cruel as he was, she didn't want him or anyone else hurt because of her.

He gave her a frustrated look, seeming uncertain for the first time. "Then what would you have me do, Sarah? You will not allow me to steal you away, and you will not let me fight for you."

"I don't know." she choked out, burying her face again in his now-soggy shirt, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

He placed his hands around her waist and lay his cheek on top on her head, rocking her back and forth in a slow dance and humming an invented melody to soothe her while he thought. In truth, he had very few options. By openly declaring his love and intentions for her, he had given up his birthright and inheritance. He had few friends, and none that would help him openly, lest they risk the terrible wrath of his father. He had hoped to live with her here in her world, but without her father's blessing, the marriage would not be legal by his people's laws, and they would view her as a problem. It would only be a matter of time before they found her, used her to punish him, to manipulate him. He would not, could not let anything happen to her.

"I have a plan to get your father to agree." he said carefully, after several long minutes of quiet.

She looked up at him, expression curious but cautious.

He saw and answered her unspoken question. "No one would be hurt. All you must do is give me your baby brother. I will keep him safe Underground for a time, while you gain a promise from your father that whoever finds and returns the boy safely can have your hand in marriage. Then we will go somewhere where no one knows us, and live in peace."

"Will my father not suspect me? How am I to get the boy to you without anyone seeing?" she said, peering into the dark forest as if expecting to see half the village hiding in the bushes, listening to them.

There was a fluid twist of his wrist, and a shimmering, transparent crystal sphere appeared between them. He pressed his lips to it briefly, before offering it to her. Sarah copied him, feeling her lips tingle uncomfortably against the smooth surface. Then the crystal seemed to become more and more transparent, until it popped like a bubble, leaving behind nothing but a puff of cold air.

"All you must do is wish him to me, and mean it. Your words hold power now, be careful with them." He smiled and ran two fingers lightly across her still parted lips, pleased at how her breath caught and eyes fluttered closed. She expected him to kiss her now, but he would not, not until she was truly his, forevermore. He made that a promise to himself, though it was difficult. Even with a face red and swollen from tears, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Go now, my love, before you are discovered missing. I will go Underground and wait for your wish." he stepped back, keeping his hands clasped behind him so as to avoid the temptation of touching her.

Her eyes flew open and a few quick steps brought her close to him again. "No! Stay with me, please!" she followed him, gripping his shirt and staring up at him pleadingly, biting her lower lip.

He frowned and looked away. "I cannot. I will not. Not until you can be mine in truth."

"But I'm afraid." she whispered, as if ashamed to admit it.

"Of what?" he couldn't help it, he brought his hands up to cup her cheeks. "What could my fearless girl possibly be afraid of?"

She swallowed thickly and wouldn't meet his eyes. "That you might not come back. That something might happen, or that you might change your mind, or-"

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. When he was sure that he had her full attention, he took a step back, pulling a knife from his belt and sliding it deliberately across his open palm, letting his blood drip into the shadows between them.

She watched with wide eyes.

"I swear to you, Sarah Owensdottir, that I will return for you, that my love is true. A blood oath I make to you, that I will always find you."

Before he could stop her, she took the blade from his hand and sliced it across her own, her blood mingling and mixing with his in her open palm. "And I swear that I will never be at peace until you're mine in every way."

He tried to cover her mouth, to stop the words of power before they were spoken, but it was too late.

"Oh Sarah. What have you done."

She looked up at him, green eyes full of love, and sadness, and innocence, and he forgave her, and prayed silently that neither of them would ever have cause to regret their reckless vows.

He left, fading away before either of them could say anymore.

~oOo~

She acted the next day, as he sat hidden in the woods of his father's kingdom, contemplating the events of the night before. The toddler stared at him from the patch of clover where he had suddenly appeared, blue eyes wide and fearful, lower lip trembling. Jareth soothed him with a hushed song and fed him enchanted fruit, lulling him into a magical sleep, lest his cries lead to their discovery. He hid the child in the hollow of a tree that he himself had hid in as a child, and waited for Sarah to wish for him. He stayed with the child for three days, guarding him by day as a man, and by night as an owl, but soon he became very thirsty, and left, just for a moment, to get a drink from a nearby creek. He didn't want to risk using conjuring magic, didn't want to draw attention to them.

When he returned the child was gone. He set off at once for his father's castle, knowing that no one else would have any cause to take the boy.

~oOo~

The Golden One, he called himself. Many other names had he been known by over the years, though his true name was known only to a few. The Greeks had known him as Hades, while the Romans called him Pluto. Even now, the Scandinavians feared him as a dark elf, the Germans whispered "Erlkonig". None laid eyes on him without feeling fear. His many millenniums of cruelty could be felt now in the smile he gave his only son, a smile that would have driven a lesser man mad. But Jareth, though only in his third century, had strength and power of his own.

"Where is the boy." Jareth asked firmly, his voice echoing around the cold marble hall.

"What boy? There are no children in my kingdom of late." the king replied, voice like an icicle with razor blades attached to it. There was an amused glint in his icy blue eyes. He was toying with Jareth.

"The human child. Give him back to me." Jareth kept his voice low and respectful, but refused to back down.

"I think you have allowed that silly mortal to addle your brains. There are no humans allowed Underground, by my law." the amused glint was gone, replaced with something more sinister. He stood gracefully from his marble throne, then snapped his fingers, and a wooden door to the left swung open. A small, ugly grey creature sat on the stone floor inside the tiny room, playing with malformed feet. It looked up and Jareth's heart turned to ice. There was no mistaking those blue eyes.

"What have you done." he turned to his father, eyes blazing. "Change him back!"

"You do not command me, boy!" the king roared, advancing on his son. They were nose to nose now, neither backing down. "Forget this foolishness, come back to your rightful place, forswear that girl and I will forget that any of this ever happened." his cruel eyes flicked to the disfigured boy. "I'll even let you keep that thing, if you want."

The crystals formed in Jareth's hands before he could think, but as he raised them he found himself thrown back by a terrific force, and hit the far wall with a sickening thunk. The wall grew arms of stone that held him there, limbs spread and hands pinned to the wall, unable to move, as his father advanced on him with a terrifying calmness.

"You would raise a hand to me. To your kin. To your king." he spoke quietly, fixing his blank stare on the wall to Jareth's left.

Jareth said nothing, just stared back defiantly.

"Then I banish you from this kingdom, and from any and all green lands, until such a time as you are willing to bow before me and kiss my feet, to beg your forgiveness and swear your complete obedience to your father and king."

"That will never happen," Jareth hissed back, "for I have no father, and I have no king,"

There was flash and a crack, and he knew no more.


	2. There Was a Beautiful Girl

He came to lying flat on his back on hot, dry sand. Standing slowly, he took in his surroundings with despair. All around him, in any direction as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but endless red desert, scorched by two merciless suns and constantly bombarded by fierce winds. There was no life, and he was completely and utterly alone.

Not alone. The boy appeared at his feet, crying.

He bent and picked him up, holding him out in front of him and examining the damage. His skin was grey and leathery, hands and feet swollen and distorted, ears and nose enlarged and misshapen. He had a short scaly tail now as well. Jareth peered into his eyes, reaching inside with his magic to try and find the boy within. His soul was there, still intact, but the spell had reached his mind and warped it. He was no longer human, not even a little, and Jareth knew with a leaden certainty that it was beyond his power to change him back.

He sat back down heavily, setting the child beside him, and buried his head in his hands. They sat there for some time together, the child crying, the man not-crying, until he suddenly stood, took the child in his arms, and started walking. He walked for hours, or weeks, an unknown length of time, singing to the child to soothe it, resting only when absolutely necessary. Thankfully, the child's new form required little in the way of food or water, for there was none to be found in the desolate wasteland.

Until one day they came to an oasis in the desert.

At first he thought it a mirage, but the child saw it too, begging to be put down so that he could go and play. There were other creatures here that looked similar to the child; goblins, they called themselves. They had little in the way of intelligence or memory, but they made the boy laugh and smile with their antics, and there was drinkable water and fruit trees that gave shade, so Jareth decided they would stay for a while. He wondered if these goblins were also once human children, changed by his father for his cruel self-amusement, sent here when he grew tired of them.

He hauled rock and molded clay to built a high wall around where the goblins and the boy played, then another, and another, never feeling that it was enough. He had to show her, show her that he  _could_  protect her, even though he had failed her brother.

The land, as all of the most ancient lands do, had a sort of soul of its own, and as he worked relentlessly, day after day, it began to work with him. He would wake to find new walls, new passages, created and sustained by the magic of the land and bound seamlessly to his own work. Encouraged, he continued building, creating, consumed by guilt and an obsessive need to protect. He felt the pull of his oath, but resisted it. He wasn't ready to face her yet.

The goblins and the child played in the swamp, carefree and happy.

He built them houses; huts and shacks. For the boy and himself he built a house of yellow stone, which he kept adding to, making room for the child's friends and adding fortifications and secret rooms to keep them safe.

One day he stopped and looked, really looked, and realized that he had build a towering, impregnable castle, and that the land around him was now a vast, living Labyrinth, bent to his will. To his satisfaction, the very stones obeyed him, quivering at his touch and eager to do his bidding. It would be enough, she would be safe here now, he thought with a small smile. Damn the laws, he would bring her here and she would be his wife, and they would live in peace.

If she could forgive him.

Leaving the child in the castle with the other goblins, he went Above, to the woods where they had always met before. Only the woods were changed now, they felt older, taller, darker. He hastened to her home, and was met with a terrible sight.

The village was abandoned, and by the looks of it had been for some time. He darted from house to house, calling out, but there was nothing but cobwebs and dust, burnt walls and shattered crockery, and a deafening, damning silence. He took his owl form and flew like the wind to the next village. This one had suffered as well, but a stubborn few had stayed, tried to rebuild. Heathen raiders from across the sea had come, they told him, followed by a wasting fever that had swept the country. One old woman had escaped from Owensville many years ago, and knew the fate of his Sarah. The Lord Owen had gone mad after the kidnapping of his son, she told him, and in a fit of rage had drowned his wife and daughter in the river, convinced they were somehow responsible. Raiders had killed him a month later as they sacked the town.

He left, inconsolable and out of his mind with grief, somehow making his way back to the castle in the center of the Labyrinth. Months went by, he drowned his sorrows in ale and wine, caring for nothing. Why had she not wished for his help? That question would haunt him forever.

Then one day, a few decades later, he heard her voice, clear as day.

" _I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now!"_

He was sure it was a hallucination, but he went Above nevertheless, following the pull of her voice. What he saw shocked him so badly that he nearly fell out of the sky.

It was  _her,_  same hair, same face, same eyes, a bit younger than he had known her, differently dressed, but  _her_  nonetheless. He remembered the blood oath she had made, and was ecstatic.

Somehow, someway, she had come back to him. The magic had brought her back to him.

He landed in such a hurry that he nearly fell flat on his face, turning back to a man before touching the ground. He ran straight towards her, calling her name. She took one look at him, grabbed her skirts, screamed at the top of her lungs and ran away. Surprised at her response, he chased her down, holding her in his arms securely and trying to soothe her, to reason with her as she struggled and screamed. He reached out with his magic to make sure she was really Sarah, and not some creation of an unstable mind, as he had initially suspected when he heard her voice. Her soul was without a doubt his Sarah, but her mind was slightly different, fresh, new.

She did not know him.

"Please don't hurt me," she sobbed.

He let her go as if she had burned him. "I would never hurt you, Sarah."

"Who are you, how do you know my name? And where is my brother?" she bit her lip and looked him up and down apprehensively, clearly trying to be brave by facing him and not running away.

He felt his heart drop like a stone into his stomach. "Your brother?" the words fell from his numb lips like chunks of ice.

"Please, I thought it was just a story, I didn't think goblins were real!"

He looked closer. She couldn't have been more than thirteen. He thought about her words.

"The goblins took him, as you wished. I suppose you want me to bring him back, now?" he said, piecing it together out loud, his mind too numb from shock to work properly.

"Yes, please," she begged. She wiped her tears and straightened her spine resolutely, watching him with a wariness that made his heart wither.

His skin was tingling, burning. He could not stay in a green land for long. Soon, if he did not leave, it would begin to blister and smoke.

"Meet me here tomorrow, alone. I shall bring you your brother, and we will speak more." he said, then faded away. He would convince her to continue meeting him, to make her know him and love him like she was supposed to. He would not give up. He could not lose her again.

~oOo~

She did not come. When he went to investigate, he found out why. He stared numbly at the tree where she swung from a rope around her neck, a symbol meant to ward off witchcraft carved into the trunk. The foolish girl must have run back and told everyone what had happened, and they had clearly jumped to the wrong conclusions, thinking she had done some black magic to get rid of the boy. He took her down and brought her home with him, burying her in the desert and planting a flowering tree to mark the spot. Next to it he planted another, for the body that had been lost in the river.

He kept the boy, casting a spell of forgetfulness and longevity on him.

It happened again, and again. Every century brought a new Sarah or two, each a spitting image of the one before, each ignorant as to who she really was, who he was. She was always in the same situation, wealthy but disinterested father, step-mother of varying degrees of wickedness, and a baby brother that received all the love and admiration. When she was around twelve or thirteen, just starting to become a woman, that was when he would feel the pull of his oath and knew she was back again. He would inevitably go above to see her, to watch her. To fall in love with her all over again.

_I will always find you._

He could last longer in his owl form, an hour or two before he began feeling adverse effects from being in a green land as compared to the mere minutes he could last as a man, so he would almost always travel Above in that way. Sometime he would risk trying to speak with her, to rebuild what they had had, but as he could not stay long, she always remained wary of him.

She seemed compelled to repeat her previous actions, and would wish her brother away to the goblins every time. He would bring her to the Labyrinth under the guise of retrieving him, so as to have her near for a while longer. In the end, however, she always figured out her own power of words, and would wish herself and the baby away from him in one way or another.

In fact, with her power, she might have become quite a dangerous person in the world Above, if she ever lived long enough, but Sarah's oath came with a catch. She never lived longer than 21, the age she had died the first time. Despite the obvious futility of it, he tried to save her, tried warning her, protecting her, sending goblins to guard her, even locking her in an oubliette once, but death always found her on time, no matter what he did or didn't do.

He became bitter and cold, torn between wanting to love her and wanting her to just leave him alone.

Time passed, his wild blonde hair grew long, and some of the youthfulness left his features. To protect his sanity and his heart, he strove to treat her visits like a game, but that never worked for long. Soon he would be dancing with her again, though he knew he shouldn't, singing his heart to her, though he knew her ears were deaf now to his meaning.

This went on, until the thirteenth Sarah. Not really the thirteenth, as it was always the same one, the same soul living again and again, but for Jareth, she was the thirteenth. It had been 5 years since she had refused his love yet again and left the Labyrinth, but tonight, as he looked up at the night sky over his land, he smiled. The moons, all forty-eight of them, were perfectly aligned, an event that happened only once every three thousand years. It was a time of wild, raw magic, and those who knew how could absorb and channel that magic into a great and powerful spell of their choosing. He felt a strange lightness within him, a kind of shimmering energy. He frowned at the wall next to the window for a minute or two, trying to decipher this foreign feeling. After a while he recognized it, like a long-forgotten friend.

It was hope.

The idea came to him in a rush of inspiration, and he raised his hands and closed his eyes, singing a song of Old Magic that echoed through the night. An ethereal light began to grow between his outstretched palms, twisting and dimming until it condensed into a semi-transparent crystal ball, one that pulsed with a strange pink glow.

In the blink of an eye he was an owl, speeding through the night like a bullet, the crystal clutched tightly in his talons as he tore through the sky on his way to the Aboveworld.

~oOo~

Sarah Williams hated finals week. She was a good student, the kind who skipped parties so that she could study, and earned good grades despite her tendency to daydream in class. There was so much to learn and do and see, and she didn't want to miss a thing. Which was why she had stayed out most of the night to witness the planetary alignment from the roof of the science building, and why she was now up at 4 am trying to study for the math test that would be given later that morning.

"There are too many damn letters in these problems." she complained to the empty dorm room, glaring groggily at her textbook.

She blinked, and looked closer at the page. She had been unknowingly reading the wrong book for the last hour. Well. That would explain her difficulty.

"Urgh." she buried her face in her arms on her desk, eyes squeezed shut and muffled voice giving the book a lecture on the unfairness and inadequacy of a 24 hour day, and the misery of belonging to a species that had to spend a third of their lives sleeping.

That was not a wise thing to do, because within thirty seconds of putting her head down, she was fast asleep.

And so she never noticed the lights flickering out, never heard the scratching of of an owl's talons at her window, and never felt the ethereal pink ball that floated towards her through the air, settling inside her head as if it were made of something imaginary.

That night, for the first time, Sarah dreamed of drowning.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> As you may have figured out, this story is based off the idea that has been floating around Tumblr for a while, of there being many Sarahs that have run the Labyrinth over the years. If you haven't seen it, it is basically an explanation of why Hoggle says "I thought so," when Sarah tells him her name in the beginning of the movie. Of course she's Sarah. They are all Sarah, it has always been Sarah. I thought it was an intriguing, mysterious, haunting idea, with plenty of possibilities, and I kept waiting and waiting for someone to write a fanfiction inspired by it, but no one ever did. So I decided to make an account here and write one myself. I've never really written anything, so I hope it's half-way decent.
> 
> The story will continue from here with Sarah and Jareth trying to break the spell before it is once again too late. While I have several good plot ideas, I'm not sure how the story may go at this point, I am just writing it as it comes to me. Given my tastes, however, I can safely promise an exciting story with a happy ending, and should probably warn against possible mature content later on. Also there's a high probability that I'll try to squeeze in a dragon somehow. Dragons are cool.
> 
> Please review! Constructive criticism is welcome and very much appreciated, provided that it is, in fact, constructive.


	3. Who Dreamed Impossible Things

The top floor was empty, as it usually was early in the morning. Sarah was glad. She enjoyed her part-time job here as an assistant in the campus library, but today she wanted to be left alone so that she could do some research. The dreams had started about a week ago, horrid vivid things that consumed her, mind, body and soul. Dreams of dying, dreams of living, dreams of things that felt like memories, but weren't. Most disturbing to her, many of these dreams featured the Goblin King.

_He wanted something, but she couldn't tell what. Always appearing when she hoped he wouldn't, always fading away without giving her any answers. Why wouldn't he leave her alone? She had been betrothed, now everything was ruined. They said she was haunted..._

Not that she hadn't dreamed of the Labyrinth and its inhabitants before, how could she not? It had been the most incredible experience of her young life, and had changed her to the very core. That night had been terrifying, yes, and challenging, most definitely, but also the most spectacular thing ever to happen to her. But these new dreams were different. They were dark, gripping, leaving her waking in a cold sweat or a heated fluster, with a stomach-tingling sense of deja-vu and a foreboding premonition of things to come. And they lingered, swimming through her mind in the daytime as well.

_His hands were warm and strangely familiar, but she couldn't let him distract her, she'd come too far, she had to run, run away…_

She wanted answers, and books had always served her well before.

Turning a corner down a particularly shadowy aisle, she saw that there was a lone book lying on the ground in her path. She bent to pick it up, distractedly putting it back on the shelf without really seeing it. She made her way to the psychology section, pulling down a book on dreams and flipping through it, then sitting down at a small wooden table against the wall to read.

The warm sunlight from a nearby window illuminated the dust motes that swirled and danced around her as she turned page after page, trying fruitlessly to find something useful. She was interrupted a few minutes later by a strange thumping noise that came from a few rows over.

"Hello?" she called out, hopefully in a voice more professional than irritated. She must have missed the sound of the door; sometimes couples would sneak up here to 'study', hoping the top floor was unsupervised.

There was no reply.

Sighing, she got up and went to investigate, tucking the book under her arm. She really hoped that she wouldn't find anyone canoodling, seeing others together made her acutely aware of her own inability to have a relationship with the opposite sex. She'd certainly tried, but something always seemed to go bizarrely wrong early on. These last few months, she'd pretty much given up.

There was no one there, but several more books lay scattered on the carpet. Looking around suspiciously, peering into the cracks between shelves, she tip-toed her way down the aisle, but there was nothing but dust. Weird.

As she put the books back, there was the unsettling feeling of being watched. She shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably and glanced around, getting a bit nervous. She could swear that she was alone, and yet if felt as if someone was standing directly behind her, eyes burning into her back...

"All right, come out now, this isn't funny!" her voice was strong and firm, just like how she felt an assistant librarian's should be, but it was absorbed and muted by the books, leaving her feeling small and cold.

This was foolish. She shook her head, clearing it of all the fantastical possibilities that had begun to parade themselves in front of her mind, and walked resolutely back to her table, flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder and swinging her hips as she walked, in an effort to show her fearlessness to the unseen entity that the logical part of her brain told her wasn't there.

From behind her came a ghostly chuckle, barely audible. She spun around, glaring at the empty air and the silent books. Again, nothing.

She huffed and stomped back to her table. It must be the lack of quality sleep, she reasoned. She was imagining things. Sitting down, she realized that she had put the psychology book on the shelf with the others, and went back for it.

This time the book hit her on the head.

"Ow!"

As she bent to pick it up, she paused to take a good look at it. It was small and thin, with a red cover and gold lettering spelling out... 'The Labyrinth'. She gasped and dropped it as if it had burned her, looking around the aisle with wide eyes, psychology text forgotten.  _That_  book was supposed to be in her bedroom back home, miles and miles away. Suddenly the library felt claustrophobic, the rows of paper and leather and wood feeling more like a trap than a sanctuary. The logical part of her brain decided that it wasn't being paid enough for this and closed shop.

Air. She needed air. Her eyes fell on the door to the stairwell, but she turned back after a few steps, impulsively grabbing the little book before letting her feet carry her out and up and away.

~oOo~

The autumn air smelled of sunshine and wet dirt, even up here on the roof of the three-story building, although the lazy October wind carried a subtle promise of ice. She pulled her sweater up around her ears and sat down against the north wall, out of the wind, and turned the book over in her hands, studying it with a thoughtful frown. After rescuing her brother from the Goblin King and returning home, she had spent months and months researching everything she could about Labyrinths, goblins, fairies, and, of course, her little red book. There were numerous stories and legends about Labyrinths and mythical creatures, but she had never been able to find out anything about her book, which was her only tangible remembrance from her adventure. It had no listed author, no copyright date, no publisher, nothing to tell where it might have come from, and she could never recall exactly when or where she had gotten it. It must have been one of a kind, she thought, something homemade perhaps. Could this be a duplicate, or was it the same one? If the latter, then how had it gotten here?

The warm sunshine made her feel comfortable and confident in a sleepy kind of way. There was someone who might have the answers she sought, but would he answer her call? It couldn't hurt to try, she reasoned. Not that she was eager to ask for help from the proud king that she had once defeated. What if he wanted revenge, or even worse, what if he was responsible for all of this? Unbidden, another dream from last night swirled through her vision, uneven eyes, sharp features, pale skin and a white feathered cloak, he had been pleading with her, angry with her, desperate for  _something_ …

She forcefully pushed the cloying tendrils of the dream and the unwelcome swell of confused emotion that had accompanied it out of her mind. It didn't matter, she was at her limit, the dreams stole her rest at night and invaded her thoughts during the day, she was exhausted and on edge and just wanted it to stop. That was enough for her to act.

Shoving the book into her pocket, she stood and marched to the center of the roof, back straight and head held high, a determined expression on her face. The wind lifted and billowed her hair, and she imagined that she looked the part of the conquering heroine, high up here in the golden sunlight.

Summoning her courage, she called out in a strong voice, "Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, please come forth and speak with me!"

The wind seemed to die down, and there was a rather anticlimactic feel to the air. She waited for a few moments. Nothing happened. Her shoulders slumped.

"Damn."

Sighing, she turned back to the roof access, only to stop in her tracks, green eyes fixed on the tawny barn owl sitting on the sunny concrete ledge, who was staring at her in kind. All the pigeons suddenly flew away to nearby buildings, thoroughly intimidated.

They stood there for a minute, the girl and the bird, sizing one another up. Then, quite without ceremony, it disappeared. She blinked in bemusement.

"Hello, Sarah." came a voice directly behind her, the words ghosting in her ear and sending a chill down her spine.

_She dropped her basket and spun around. The stranger summoned one of the spilled apples to his hand as if by magic, then took a bite, grinning at her..._

She turned slowly, unexpectedly speechless as she took in the man before her. He looked even more extraordinary than she had remembered, shining black armor and billowing cloak, wild fair hair, a smirk on his sensual lips and an amused glint in his strange, enrapturing eyes. His presence commanded attention, and she found herself deaf and blind to the world around them. He seemed equally fixated on her.

A car honked its horn down on the street below, jarring Sarah back to her senses.

"Hello, Goblin King," she started awkwardly. Damn. She hadn't planned this far. "Um… thank you for coming..."

He raised an eyebrow, and began to walk around her in a slow circle, hands clasped behind his back. "I had wondered when you would call on me. You are such a stubborn thing."

"I been having- wait... is there going to be a price for your help?" she turned to face him fully. If he had been expecting her to call, he likely knew what was going on. He might even be responsible for it, in which case she could be playing right into his hands. She had to be more careful. Just because she had beaten his games once, didn't mean she would again.

A wide grin split his face, and he stopped his prowling, standing about 3 feet away from her.

"Well done. You're asking the right questions. The answer is this: only one thing is free, but it's not what you ask of me." he chanted musically. He summoned a crystal and began idly rolling it over the gloved fingers of one hand, but gave no further explanation.

"What is it you want, then?" she asked warily, pulling her eyes away from the crystal and fixing them on him. She suddenly had a bizarre urge to punch him, which she suppressed, dismissing it as another dream-shadow.

He was still for a minute, and Sarah couldn't read his expression. Finally he spoke, in careful, measured words. "I will give you honesty for honesty, and aide for aide. But if you decide, after I have given you such, that the price is too high, I shall not hold it against you."

Sarah mulled this over. She was sure now that he knew something, but still couldn't tell what he was up to. What really threw her was his apparent show of gallantry. She certainly hadn't expected that of him, but her instincts told her that he was sincere.

"Why would you do that?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"I'm in a generous mood." he said with an aloof smirk.

"You don't even know why I've called you." she prodded.

Again his expression was unreadable. He watched her silently until she began to feel uncomfortable. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the one foot.

"I've been having dreams."

"Yes?"

"...You're in them. Not like that!" she added hastily as he raised his eyebrows and smirked.  _Those_  dreams were not the issue, and were none of his business besides.

"Like what, then?" he prompted. His skin was beginning to burn, he had to hurry this up.

"Well, I've been dreaming of things like this, of you and me talking or just me doing everyday things... sometimes I am running the Labyrinth again, or running from… someone." she almost said 'you', but thought better of it. His expression remained impassive.

The words started to come out of her in a flood, it was such a relief to talk about this, even if it was to the Goblin King. "In the dreams I am me, but different. Like, my clothes are always old fashioned, and the people I seem to know I've never actually met. Every night it is the same, the dreams start with me as a little girl, then I get older. But it's just bits and pieces that don't really make sense, they just run together…" she trailed off.

"And then?" he urged.

She took a deep breath. "And then I die. Every night." her words were colored with raw emotion, despite her best efforts to appear unaffected. "I have died a different way every night for the last six nights." she unconsciously hugged herself tighter.

There was a flicker of something that looked like concern in his cool blue eyes, but otherwise he remained composed. "The first night, when this started- how did you die in that dream?"

Sarah blinked, thinking back. "I drowned."

He inhaled and his eyes widened a fraction, but she was too preoccupied to notice. She could  _feel_  the water pressing down on her, the terror ripping through her mind as it grew darker, darker, dark…

"Sarah?"

She blinked at him, aware again of the warm sun and the crisp air. She sucked in several deep calming breaths, drying up the last drops of that horrible vision.

"It's just that… they're not normal dreams, they feel so real, as if they are actually happening-"

"That's because they did happen." he said quietly.

She stared at him.

"They are not dreams, Sarah, they're memories. Of your past lives. Your soul has been stuck in a loop for many years."

She waited a bit, but he didn't explain. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Doesn't it? Does it feel a lie to you, love?" he was twirling the crystal again, and watching it with a sharp expression. He guessed he had about five more minutes before he started to blister.

Sarah thought. It didn't feel like a lie, quite the opposite. "Ok. Let's say that's true. Why is this happening now? How can I make it stop?"

"There is a place, where such things can be undone. A place of Old Magic, of binding and unbinding." he watched her as he spoke, gauging her reaction."You must come with me willingly however, and we must reach this place by Samhain, which is in one week's time."

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

All she got in response to that was a rumbling chuckle. He threw the crystal to her and she reacted instinctively, catching it in both hands. She was somewhat surprised when nothing happened, it just felt like a normal glass sphere.

"You have until sundown to decide." he said, voice echoing around her mysteriously.

Sarah looked up to ask him about the crystal, but she was once more alone on the rooftop.

She looked back down and thought she saw something in the depths of the crystal. She squinted and held it close to her face. Within, an image floated to the surface, a scene between two people in a forest at night. As they came into focus, Sarah gasped. It was her (but not her) and the Goblin King. He looked so different, younger. Crystal Sarah's tiny voice could be heard now, and Jareth's. And there was no mistaking it, they were...  _lovers._  She had never dreamed anything like this before. She held the crystal, enraptured, and watched the two of them cut their hands and make their oaths in the shadowy moonlight. The Goblin King faded from view, and then the image dissipated, leaving her holding an empty, ordinary crystal ball.

She touched her cheek and was surprised to find it streaked with hot tears. She carefully tucked the crystal into her sweater pocket and mindlessly let her feet carry her down and out of the building, and all the way to her dorm. She had a lot to think about, and not much time to do it.


	4. An Impossible Man Came To Take Her Away

* * *

The backpack wasn't going to unpack itself. No matter how much she glared at it. Sarah had been packing and unpacking for over an hour now, but still hadn't been able to make up her mind, and the sun was sinking low outside her window.

She had to go with him. All those poor women (no,  _me_ , she corrected herself), doomed to live again and again, making the same mistakes, until… what? Her own voice, strangely accented, echoed back to her in her mind:

_...until you're mine._

She knew from her dreams (no _, memories)_  that the Goblin King and her had never been in any kind of positive relationship, not for a long time, anyway. That was a possible answer. But the idea of trying to have a relationship just to try and break a curse was pretty unappealing to her, no matter how attractive he was. He was offering a third option. All she had to do was agree to go with him to this magic unbinding place and voila! All better.

Unless he was lying.

She got up and started unpacking her socks.

But could she really afford to risk it? She knew in heart that what he said was true, that her recent dreams were in fact memories. There had already been so much suffering. If she ignored this and it proved to be true, who knew how much longer it might go on. She didn't want to be responsible for that.

She scribbled out a note for her counselor about having a family emergency, then put a pair of socks back in the backpack.

Still, there  _had_  been something fishy about his explanations earlier. He was definitely hiding something- this  _was_  the same man who had held her brother captive and threatened to turn him into a goblin. Yes, she  _had_  asked him too, but she had been a dramatic teenager who thought she was just play acting, he should have just ignored her like everyone else.

Three pairs of socks and a pair of pants went flying across the room to land on her bed.

This continued for several more minutes, much to the amusement of the owl perched in the shadow-drenched branches of the tree across from Sarah's window.

He knew very well what was going through her mind, he had endured his own misgivings after seeing her earlier. But it didn't matter. There was a time for everything and everything it's time, and now it was time for Sarah to come with him and put an end to this once and for all.

The sun disappeared behind the mountains, and the owl faded away as well.

Back in the dorm room, Sarah zipped the backpack with finality, a grim smile on her face as she turned over in her mind all the things she'd packed, instead of dwelling on all the reasons she shouldn't go. Her train of thought went off the rails, however, as she became aware that she was no longer alone. She turned to face her leather scented companion, who was, of course, directly behind her.

"The time has come. Have you decided?" he eyed the note on her bed with satisfaction.

"I promise you, Goblin King, if this is all some elaborate hoax, or if you mean me or those I care for harm, I will make you regret it, if it's the last thing I do." her back was ramrod straight and she stared back at him with blazing green eyes.

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

He held out a gloved hand for her to take, but she stayed as she was, holding his gaze dauntlessly.

He acquiesced. "You and your loved ones will come to no harm by my hand, Sarah, I give you my word." he pointedly flourished his hand before holding it out again for her. "Time is of the essence."

Slowly, almost unwillingly, she place her hand in his. Then, there was a violent jerking behind her navel, and the world became a maddening swirl of color and noise, his hand the only solid point. She clung to it with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut and-

_Everything was dark, here in the oubliette. All that was left was darkness, dirt walls, rocks, the smell of decay. He brought her lights, food, but the isolation was too much, she had been here for too long. She put out the lights and dumped the food and water. He would rage at her, gripping her cold hands in an attempt to heal or rejuvenate her. Soon though, she knew, there would be nothing but darkness, darkness not even he could penetrate…_

She pulled her hands from his and stood gasping, eyes bright and unfocused. It took her a moment to realize that she was standing on solid ground, and that it was light all around her, here in the throne room of the castle beyond the goblin city. He was watching her, blue eyes full of concern and sadness. She backed away, and nearly fell into the pit.

"I'm fine, don't touch me." she shook off his attempt to catch her and walked on weak legs to the other side of the room, trying to push down her sudden sense of panic. Five dozen silent goblin eyes watched them with wary interest.

"As you say." he said indifferently, retracting his hand and turning on his heel, striding purposefully to the doorway. "I will show you to your room. Or you can stay here for the night, if you like."

Sarah glanced around the filthy room full of goblins and poultry, then hurried out and down the stairs after him. He stopped at the end of a hallway so that she could catch up. The moment she drew even with him, he set off again at the same brisk pace, leaving Sarah with no breath left to say anything.

The Goblin King led her through the twisting, confusing passages, up and down stairs, and down long hallways that seemed never to end, until he suddenly turned a corner that hadn't been there before. It was all Sarah could do to keep up without panting or jogging, his long, easy strides were a stretch for her. Finally they stopped outside of a narrow dark wooden door, covered top to bottom with deep circular engravings and sporting a large brass handle. Jareth pulled on it, and it gave with a heavy creak. He turned to her briefly and nodded his head a fraction in acknowledgement. Sarah met his eyes and was slightly surprised at the spark of anger there.

"Your room, my lady. The journey to Diamond Mountain is long and perilous. Get some rest, we set out at first light."

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but he was magically gone before she could utter a syllable.

She sighed and walked into the room, looking around. The entire chamber, which seemed to be set up for guests, was made of large slabs of yellow stone; walls, floor even the high ceiling. It was shaped like a half circle, with the door, which she heaved closed behind her, on the flat wall, and the lone window opposite. The furnishings were basic, but well made; there was a large canopy bed, a polished wooden vanity, and a matching wardrobe. A small door in the corner led to a simple bathroom, all in the same yellow stone. She meandered to the window and leaned out, smiling in wonder at the glittering Labyrinth that encircled the city and stretched out to touch the dusky horizon. She had forgotten how beautiful it was from a distance. Beautiful, and dangerous, like so many things here.

She wasn't sure what to make of the Goblin King. He was as confusing and seductive and mercurial as she remembered him being from her run through his kingdom five years earlier, only now he seemed somewhat less animated, as if there was something within him that had become harder, colder. It was well hidden, but she saw it. She remembered his final offer and now saw it in a new light:  _fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave. Let me rule you, and you can have everything you want_. He had loved a version of her once, long ago. Did he still feel the same? Had that been what had driven his interactions with her then, rather than a desire to trick her into forfeiting her brother to him? It was a terribly romantic idea, which made her instantly suspicious of its validity.

She took a deep breath, tapping her fingernails on the stone windowsill as she tried to sort through her muddled thoughts. Some of these dreams made her want to run as far away from him as she could, especially this last one of her being locked in an oubliette. Of course, they were only snippets, it wasn't right to make a judgment on a situation or a person without knowing the whole story. She certainly wasn't anywhere near trusting him, but breaking this cycle was the right and necessary thing to do, and if that meant blindly following him into the unknown, then so be it.

The problem was, that while she knew her own mind, she did not know her heart. Every dream filled her with alien emotions from the past: fear, anger, sadness, want. They came in waves whenever she thought of him, and she was having a hard time telling what her feelings about this whole situation really were, separating past from present was getting more and more difficult.

The temperature was dropping with the sun, and Sarah realized with a groan that she had forgotten her backpack in her dorm room.

"Oh, I wish I'd remembered to bring my stuff. I'd kill for some fuzzy pajamas right now."

When she turned around, her backpack was sitting against the wall by the door, though she was sure it hadn't been there before.

"Um, thanks…" she murmured to the darkening room. It was a good thing, she decided, that there was no answer.

She took off her shoes and clothes, hopping into her pajamas and laying out clothes for the next day before climbing into the bed, pulling the covers under her chin to fight the growing chill. Sleep would prove evasive, and full of strange and unpleasant dreams.

~oOo~

As soon as the pair had left the throne room, a small, winged, purple goblin had furtively swooped out the window, making sure that no one noticed him. He flew hastily to a secret place outside the labyrinth where there was a door that would take him to another land. Once there, he flew for hours on end, and was near collapse when he finally reached his destination.

Using the last of his strength, he crept up to the white marble throne, belly and nose on the ground, bat-like wings twitching nervously. The king on the throne bent down and picked him up, and he dutifully told the tale that he had hurried all this way for: that the girl who ate the peach and forgot everything had come back, and that this time, she remembered.


	5. To Go on a Perilous Quest

Sarah made her way down the dark hall, forcing her feet to move at a quick pace so as to keep up with the ball of fire that bobbed along in front of her. The cold stone of the pitch-black hallways seemed to swallow up the light rather than reflect it; there was the impression that the stone was holding its breath somehow, that it was aware of her.

The goblin that held the torch turned a corner, and Sarah jogged to catch up before the light was beyond her sight. The little creature had come for her about ten minutes before, waking her up by pounding on her door and then needling her to hurry up as she gathered her things and got ready by the faint starlight peeking shyly in from the window. Now it was, presumably, leading her back to the throne room and its most notable occupant.

"What's your name?" Sarah asked, trying to be friendly.

"No talk! Must hurry!" the little creature barked.

It stopped abruptly, almost causing Sarah to crash into it. They were in front of a pair of large, unfamiliar wooden doors, and she could see in the flickering torchlight that they were carved with the same deep circular engravings as the other doors.

With no warning the door was yanked open and Sarah was pushed forward, tripping over the stone step and landing roughly on her hands and knees.

"Hey!" She yelled in surprise.

Sitting back on her knees and looking over her shoulder, she saw that the goblin was gone, its cackles echoing away down the hallway after it. She turned around and froze, staring at the black gloved hand held out a foot from her face. The hand was attached to a brown leather jacket sleeve, which in turn was draped over sinewy shoulders, attached to a head and face with sharp, pale features wearing an entertained smirk. Sarah slowly placed her hand in his, and he pulled her up, his uneven eyes locked on hers all the while.

"I'll have to apologize on behalf of my subjects, they have little comprehension of such things as gentleness of manners." he said, voice low and tinged with amusement.

Sarah nodded in acknowledgement, pulling her hand from his and dusting herself off as she fought back a blush. She looked around the room, it was a half circle like hers, but much larger. The air was smoky and warm, an immense fireplace with a bright, roaring fire in it took the place of the window, and instead of bedroom furniture there was a desk and tables, lush red carpets covering the floor, a ladder leading to a trapdoor in the ceiling, and the walls were lined with bookcases. Sarah eyed the ancient-looking tomes hungrily before pulling her mind away. Now was not the time.

"Where are we?" she asked, pulling her hand out of his. She noticed a sad look flash through his eyes, but it was gone in less than a second, replaced by the same amused look.

"In my study. I was just going over last minute details before we leave. Come." he turned and walked over to a five foot wide square table set a little ways away from the fire. Sarah made her way to the other side of it and followed his gaze to a large map.

"Would you mind telling me where exactly we are going before I follow you off into the unknown?" she asked, making his eyes snap up to hers.

"Have you forgotten already?" he asked.

"No, but you have hardly told me anything. I know I've agreed to go to some mountain and undo this curse thing, but to be honest, I still haven't really wrapped my head around it all. It's too weird. I need details. I want to know exactly where we're going, what will happen when we get there, what will happen after? And what about getting there? How long will it take, is it dangerous-"

"Sarah." he interrupted her in a sharp tone. "You have already agreed to come, you cannot take back your word. A  _thoughtful_  girl would have asked these questions before."

"I didn't say I was taking it back! And you don't have to be such a jerk about it."

He placed both hands on the table and leaned over it, glaring at her with such an intensity that made Sarah glad that they had the table between them. Still, she held her ground and his gaze. After a moment he seemed to soften slightly, although she was confident that there was little danger of his good humor returning. He pointed to the map in front of him, not taking his eyes off of her.

"This is our path."

Slowly, she made her way around to his side of the table so that she could see what he was pointing to, carefully ignoring how his gaze followed her. Her eyes widened as they swept the map. Carefully handpainted on some kind of pale animal skin, It showed an immense and extremely interesting looking geography; she would have loved to study it in detail, but her attention for now was drawn to the specific area beneath Jareth's finger. The Labyrinth was little more than a speck, swallowed up by what looked like a desert, though even that was small when compared with the rest of the map.

"This is the Labyrinth and the red waste surrounding it. I want to avoid traveling magically unless absolutely necessary so as to avoid drawing unwanted attention. I will bring us here, but then we must walk as much as possible." he said, tapping a point near the ends of the red waste.

Sarah nodded, wondering apprehensively why they needed to go unnoticed. He was being forthright however, so she didn't interrupt.

"From here it will take us about a day to get to the Deadwood, and another day or two before the Marshes of Despair." he traced the path with his finger. "Then on to the White Plain and finally the Diamond Mountain. It should take about a week." he straightened and studied the map with his lips pursed.

"This place has such cheerful names." Sarah joked. The Goblin King gave her a dry, humorless look. She cleared her throat and turned back to the map. "Why don't we just go this way? It seems a lot shorter, and the lands sound nicer. Look, the 'Emerald Forest' goes right up to the mountain."

Now that she knew point A and point B, she could see that Jareth's path seemed to take the longest route possible.

"I cannot go through those lands." he said shortly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"You ask too many questions." he snapped, turning away and grabbing a large leather satchel from a nearby chair and then stalking around the room, grabbing things from shelves and tables and stuffing them in the bag. Sarah watched him uncomfortably, wondering if she should say something.

"I left my bag in the room." she said.

He waved a hand and her backpack appeared on the table in front of her, then he resumed his packing, paying her no mind.

She thought of last night, of how her backpack had appeared after she had wished for it. "Did you… nevermind." she sighed and shouldered her backpack, plopping down on a chair and staring into the crackling flames that danced cheerfully in the fireplace.

And then there was a sword in her face.

She leaned back from the shining blade and stared up at the Goblin King who held it, wondering what his meaning was.

"A gift." he said simply, turning the blade for her inspection.

"Um, it's very shiny." she tried.

He rolled his eyes. "Stand up, and remove your bag." he commanded.

She did, eyes flicking curiously from him to the blade while setting her backpack on the floor. He sheathed it in a belted leather scabbard that he held in his other hand, and then stepped in close to her.

Very close.

Sarah's breath caught at his nearness, she could feel his breath on her cheek, see the flecks of green in his blue irises, smell his masculine, spicy scent…

He looped the scabbard's belt strap over her shoulder and fastened it at her hip, then stepped away and looked her up and down.

"Good, it fits. The blade and handle are made of a very strong but lightweight metal, so even you should be able to use it."

She ran her fingers lightly over the smooth pommel of the weapon. "I'm going to assume that this is a 'yes' to my question about whether or not this journey will be dangerous." she said, noting that at some point he also had put on a sword, although his was bigger, and strapped to his back.

He was still looking her up and down, he seemed pleased. "Wait a moment, I'll get the matching daggers."

A moment later he was back, eyeing her midriff with a scowl.

"You wear a man's pants, but not a man's belt?" he said, looking up to meet her eyes. The amused look was back. "They are even tighter than the ones you wore on your last visit."

Sarah felt her cheeks flush. "If we're going to be starting on the topic of inappropriate clothing-"

He turned away and pulled a thick strip of green fabric out of his bag and started towards her, and she stopped mid-sentence. Thinking quickly, she snatched it from his hands before he could get too close again. He quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. Sarah examined the fabric, seeing that is was a kind of belt with pockets and reinforced holes, presumably for the daggers or other larger items. She tied it around her waist and tucked the twin daggers in at her sides after Jareth handed them over. They were of the same silvery metal as the sword, each about six inches long and each with a mini-scabbard that clipped onto her belt.

"Thank you." she said, feeling extremely uncomfortable but trying to hide it beneath a facade of calm.

"You're welcome." he said, clearly perceiving and shamelessly enjoying her discomfort.

Sarah frowned as a kaleidoscope of memories swirled through her mind, accompanied by a swell of emotion that made her feel even more unsteady. Jareth watched her curiously, that sad look back in his eyes. She snapped herself out of it.

"So," she started, voice unnecessarily loud as she took back control of her mind, "are we leaving soon?"

Jareth blinked. "As soon as-"

The door to the study burst open, and three goblins tumbled in, landing in a heap and sending the bags they had been carrying scattering across the floor.

"-the food has been brought here." he finished in an irritated voice. The three goblins watched him silently with wide eyes, freezing under his icy glare, then, just as suddenly as they had arrived, they darted back out the door, yelling apologies to their king as they went.

Jareth sighed and started picking things up. Sarah helped, and when all was sorted and packed she shouldered her backpack again and turned to face him. This was it, the end of all things familiar, the final step into the unknown. Sarah fixed her eyes on his and made a decision. For better or worse, from now on she was all in, no holding back.

He held out both hands expectantly, and she stepped forward and placed her hands in his without any hesitation.

"Are you ready, Sarah?" he asked.

"I am." she answered.

"Good. Hang on, this will be rougher than the last time."

And with that reality melted around them, and Sarah closed her eyes against the gale-force winds and swirling colors, pulling herself closer to his solidness amidst the turbulence and weightlessness of magical travel.

It was over in a few seconds, but Sarah kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, focusing on the reassuring feel of solid ground beneath her feet before opening her eyes again. The Goblin King felt stiff, she realized that was likely because her arms were wrapped around his waist. She let go quickly, stepping back.

"Sorry." she said, embarrassed.

His face was a mask, but Sarah could tell by the tightness around his eyes that whatever emotion he was concealing wasn't a pleasant one.

"We need to move. Keep up." he set off at a brisk pace, and after a moment of looking around, she caught up and then fell into step behind him.

The air here was oven-hot and dry as a bone, and there was a thirsty, nagging wind, but it was not bright and sunny like she'd expected. There were no clouds in the sky, but there was a dusty gray haze that gave the landscape a gloomy dimness, in defiance of the two rising suns that gave brilliant daylight to every other land they touched. The lack of color didn't help, almost everything was red, the rocks, the sand, the pebbles; the only thing that broke up the reddish monotony was the occasional dead-looking tree or bush.

After several hours she fancied that she could see different shades of red in the rocks, undertones of rust and burnt sienna, though that was more than likely her just her imagination rebelling at the blandness of their surroundings.

They hiked for most of the day, stopping occasionally to eat or drink or take care of business. She tried to break the oppressive silence with conversation, but her companion proved grim and uncooperative, giving her one-word answers or none at all. She didn't hold it against him, but she didn't quit trying, either.

Now and then she would squint in the direction of the horizon, which was obscured by the haze between earth and sky. Sometimes she thought she saw things moving in the distant gloom, but it was hard to tell. The heat made her head feel fuzzy and her skin sticky, and her muscles ached. It was an effort to keep up without seeming weak.

The suns marched slowly across the sky, scorching the land well into the evening. She and the Goblin King were resting on some gritty boulders now, drinking warm water from a pair of canteens he had brought. After a string of persistent questions from her, he told her that they were heading for a grove of trees about two or three more miles off, where they would rest for the night. Pleased to have gotten an entire sentence out of him for the first time since this morning, Sarah let him be, peering into the distance in the hopes of seeing the grove. There were some darkish, twisty shapes to the west, illuminated by the setting suns. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, trying to see more clearly. They appeared to be moving, though it could have been a trick of the light.

"Um, Goblin King?" she asked turning to him.

He looked up from his bag, which he had been reorganizing. "Yes?"

"Those things on the horizon, is that the grove you were talking about?" she asked.

He looked over his shoulder, and when he looked back his expression was grave. "No. Those are something else entirely."

He noticed her worried expression and explained. "Dust devils. Nothing to worry about, as long as they keep their distance. They prefer to attack animals or lone travelers."

Her eyebrows shot up at that. "Sentient, carnivorous weather? I knew we'd have fun."

He didn't smile, but Sarah could see there was an effort to resist it.

They set off again, but less than ten minutes later Sarah realized that they had a problem. The Goblin King must have realized it too, judging by his increased speed.

"Um, Goblin King? They're getting closer." she called out, jogging to keep up with him.

"I know." he called back, glancing over his shoulder.

"What do we do?" she yelled. The wind was growing louder and more cutting. From the west, set against the reddish burn of dusk, she could now clearly see the whirlwinds. They were like mini-tornadoes of a rancid-red color that were slightly darker than the surrounding desert, twisting and swaying as they slowly grew larger, more defined.

"We get to the grove before they do." he replied ominously.

Within a few minutes a blur of color could be seen some distance ahead. Sweat poured down Sarah's neck and back as she began to run full out, realizing that they weren't going to make it. The dust devils were moving at breakneck speed, and were much closer now than the distant grove was. As she ran by him, Jareth caught her arm and pulled her to a full stop.

She whirled around furiously to face him. "What are you doing?"

"Act like prey, and they'll treat you as such." he said calmly, his grip on her arm like iron.

The dust devils were less than a hundred feet away now. There were three of them, each easily fifteen feet tall, their bodies of dust and rock and wind moving in a kind of zig-zagging swaying motion as their tips moved effortlessly over the ground.

"Hold perfectly still." the Goblin King hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't move, don't make a sound. Do as I say and all will be well."

Sarah didn't see that she had much of a choice. Her new weapons were completely useless here, and his word was all she had to depend on. She squinted against the stinging, gritty wind, which whipped around now them at a dull roar, and she willfully froze in place. They continued to move closer, only now at a slower speed.

At about fifty feet's distance, the dust devils began to circle them, and Sarah thought she could feel a kind of curiosity emanating off them. Two of them turned to the third with a kind of questioning air. Sarah wasn't entirely sure how she was aware of this, seeing as they had no faces for looking or speaking, yet it was plain to her all the same.

The third seemed to swirl a little faster, and Sarah had to hold back a yelp as a rock was lunged from its depths and hit her in the leg. Several more rocks were then flung at the Goblin King, who did not react. The third dust devil moved closer as the other two hung back and watched, it slowly circled them, leaning in as it did so, and she got the sense that it was watching them intently. That it was listening. It towered above them, nearly drowning them in its shadows and sandpaper winds, but they stood fast. Sarah held her breath and closed her eyes, focusing of the feel of Jareth's hand on her arm instead of the burning, raw feeling of her skin from the dust devil's harsh, gritty, gale force wind, or the throbbing bruise growing on her shin.

After what felt like hours, but was in fact only moments, the winds died down and the grip on her arm loosened. She cracked open her eyes just in time to see the dust devils tearing off across the darkening landscape and into the distant gloom, one after the other. The last one seemed to pause, as if looking back to double check, and Sarah froze again. But then it too was gone, and she sucked in a huge breath of relief.

Wordlessly, she allowed the Goblin King to take her hand and lead her the remaining distance to the grove of trees, which were now cloaked in the shadows of dusk. So exhausted she could barely think, she found a soft looking spot of ground and plopped down, shrugging off her backpack and using it as a pillow. The night was warm and within seconds her eyes were closed and her breathing began to even out.

She was roused from the precipice of sleep by the voice of the Goblin King from somewhere nearby. "Are you alright, Sarah? Are you hurt?"

"Mmm. M'alright. You?" she murmured sleepily without opening her eyes.

"I am well. Get some sleep." he said.

She mumbled something and rolled over, curling up and letting herself drift numbly into the darkness.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

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